


Amanda's Morning After

by Shamione



Series: Amanda Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Plot, Dinner, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, First Dates, Fluff and Smut, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Light Dom/sub, Magical Tattoos, Masturbation, Oral Sex, POV Hermione Granger, Pining Draco Malfoy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Plot, Tattooed Draco Malfoy, Tattoos, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamione/pseuds/Shamione
Summary: Sequel toAmanda from America(would recommend reading it first.)Hermione Granger wakes up in none other than Draco Malfoy's bed, mouth dry, core sore, and eyes unable to leave the pale chest by her side. One night. That was all it was deemed to be. One evening with him between her thighs, then seek never to see him again. But what happens when you wake a slumbering dragon in his own lair?Rated E for a reason - PWP but with like a little plot.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Amanda Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188152
Comments: 45
Kudos: 375
Collections: Completed/Downloaded/Read Works, dramione i've read





	Amanda's Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy the follow up to [Amanda from America](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25808527). I would recommend reading that story first before reading this one. It's not 100% necessary, but it will build a base for this story.
> 
> I would like to thank [ TriDogMom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDogMom/pseuds/TriDogMom), [ Anne_Ammons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anne_ammons/pseuds/anne_ammons) and [ whith96 ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whith96/pseuds/Whith96) for your work as alphas on this piece. And a huge thank you to [ RoseHarperMaxwell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseHarperMaxwell/pseuds/RoseHarperMaxwell) for acting as a beta and teaching me about tense 🤣.

She rationally knew that the mattress beneath her belonged to the singularly most influential bully from her formative years. Nevertheless, opening her eyes to a softly snoring, serene Draco Malfoy still startled Hermione. Crisp, mid-morning light flitted through a slit of deep purple drapes that hadn't been closed when they fell asleep, sprawling a ray of sunshine over a toned, pale chest. The cream-colored silk sheets that warmed her naked expanse were draped loosely about his hips, exposing more of his nude body than Hermione ever thought she'd see.

Her gaze traced the lines of his face as she gently shifted onto her side, facing and striving not to wake the dragon slumbering on his back beside her. In the faint light of the morning, Draco looked much more fatigued than he had in the moonlight. A hint of darkness painted the skin under his eyes, and small lines creased the bridge of his nose from years of deep scowls.

The low daylight illumination seemed to define the edges of his scars. He had more than the profound mark on his chest, smaller imperfections littering around it and along the column of his neck. One faint blemish sat on his jaw from a wound that Hermione remembered bleeding upon her shoulder as she hauled him from the fire in the Room of Hidden Things. Another gray imperfection that nearly resembled the shape of an M marred the skin beside his eye. 

The graceful strokes of ink thrust beneath his skin appeared to glitter, and she supposed they might if they were impressed with magical ink. Blooming chrysanthemums of orange and pink and purple danced across waves of black, the background seeming to whirl softly as if the tides were real ripples of a jet black ocean.

Gradually stretching toward him, Hermione allowed her fingers to follow their desire to trace his edges, just close enough to feel his warmth but not his skin. Slowly, along the lines of his arm, rounding his shoulder and outlining the pink scar on his chest. Her hand lingered near his abdomen for a moment, and he shifted, fingers gliding against her palm as they quickly laced with hers—tugging her closer as his free hand slipped deftly about her waist, her chest meeting his side.

His eyes cracked open somewhat, glimpsing at her sidelong as a faint grin grew across his features. "You're staring, Granger."

"I am," she huffed before a subdued laugh.

His fingers left hers, both hands gripping a hip as he drew her chest to his, Hermione bent her knees to either side of his body as his hands ghosted warmth up her frame, splaying along the sides of her neck. Four fingers shifted into her curls as his thumbs caressed her cheeks softly.

With a tender tug and a dangerous smirk, his lips pillowed upon hers. The delicate, sensual rolls of their mouths made Hermione's body tingle and her eyes close gradually. It felt sweet. Passionate. Slit wetting. Core firing. Wholly unexpected.

Hermione pulled back some, her lips hovering above his. "Malfoy, what…"

"Not now," he whispered, and as the fresh spearmint on his breath invaded her senses, she knew he'd been awake the entire time she watched him.

"I just…"

"Granger. Stop," he grumbled, his fingers tightening in her curls. "Not right now."

A subdued groan rumbled in her throat at his raw roughness, and his hands tightened against her scalp further. She felt the force of his desire as he drew her lips back to his in a searing, feverish kiss - tongue not asking for permission before it dipped between her lips and danced against hers. 

She was nearly breathless as she pulled back, the long minutes of his embrace having seized the air from her lungs. Pushing against his chest to straighten her spine as his fingers loosened in her hair, Hermione's lips quivered slightly as her eyes fluttered open. His familiar, irritatingly handsome smirk appeared to lead his way as he sat, hands gliding along her body, making her shudder.

He chuckled softly, tongue dampening his lips before he leaned in, peppering wet, fiery kisses to her collar bone, her neck, her shoulder. To the tops of her bust as his hands slowly ghosted about her back. He held her tightly as his kisses began to linger on her skin, tender breath rippling gooseflesh in its wake, flushing her body as her core hummed a familiar need.

Hermione couldn't halt her hands from slipping into his hair as his tongue enveloped her pebbled nipple. A jagged moan filled the room as his teeth scraped her sensitive breast before his tongue wandered to the other. Fire danced along her skin as he massaged pressure down her form, want crushing against her navel as he dug firm fingers into her hips.

Her body's reaction was quick. She could feel the slickness between her folds at just his touch. At only his kiss. And he appeared to know how he affected her, chuckling as he guided her hips to kiss his.

She tried not to moan, to hold her faculties together as long as she could. But when Draco's hardened length scarcely caressed her slit, she couldn't stop her whimpered cries. Couldn't halt the roll of her hips that slipped her lower lips around his circumference.

His lips left her skin with a groan, his fingers tight on her hips as his chin rose. And a touch too eagerly for her liking, her lips met his in a languid kiss, fingers tightening in silken locks as she slowly thrust her pelvis forward. She wasn't sure whose moan was louder as she slid her clit against his manhood, but she didn't care. All she could think about was the feel of them, of the memories of their passion together the night prior.

His tongue asked for permission, and she parted her lips with a sigh. An ever-present desire made their kisses turn heated. Made fingers scrape skin and teeth sink into lips as the circle of her hips grew nearly frantic. The pressure against her apex and the sensuality of their touches - of their kisses and caresses - made her breathlessly plead for him to fill her.

And a resounding whimper passed her lips as he pulled back, his hands stilling her movements as her face fell into a pout. 

He merely smirked, guiding her upward, and it felt like her entire body erupted with glee as his thick, lengthy cock slipped into her center. Her back arched, fingernails digging into his shoulders as she rolled her hips. Slowly coating him in the slickness deep within her womanhood until he was almost entirely concealed inside.

But before her arse met his hips, he pulled back with a mischievous smirk and thrust up into her forcefully. Unadulterated bliss fluttered through to her fingertips, body vibrating as her shuddered gasp filled the space. He chuckled huskily, joining their lips as he plunged into her again, and Hermione's nails dug into his shoulders with desperation.

Draco drew her hips forward, and the force against her clit enticed her to take control, stroking back and forth. Slow circles. Quick, toe-curling thrusts. Dangerously sensuous kisses. Pleasure building rhythm that ripped a deep, throaty groan from his throat as he laid back. Hermione's hands lowered to his chiseled pecs, grip desperate as she bounced her hips, fucking him slowly. Deliberately. Then quickly. Tantalizing him but taking precisely what she required.

Lustfully lidded eyes ignited her senses as he withdrew her hands from his chest, lacing their fingers tightly. Her back straightened somewhat, her cries of pleasure the only noise as her head fell backward, and her eyes clenched in concentration. In absolute bliss. An unexpected ripple of pleasure coursed through her, hips snapping quicker as their laced fingers slipped to her apex, and he used their fingers to circle her clit.

"I wasn't aware your invitation to breakfast also included a show."

Hermione yelped aloud, eyelids snapping apart and toward the rumbling voice that had echoed over her moans. Standing in the doorway, leaning against the encasement, was Theo Nott - an incredulous, nearly shit-eating grin on his lips, eyebrow high, and his arms crossed over his chest.

Her fingers ripped from Draco's and slammed against her bare breasts, shielding her modesty. She leaned forward quickly, burying her unruly head of curls into the crook of his neck with an embarrassed shriek. His arms encircled her hastily, the smooth silk fabric of his bedsheet falling to her back.

"I'm truly a lucky man!" Theo howled with what she knew was a wolfish grin.

"Out, Theo!" Draco shouted, and Hermione overheard the distinct thud of a pillow slapping against the drywall.

"Breakfast, mate! Breakfast!"

"Out!"

The last sound she heard before the door slammed shut was Theo's laughing timbre notifying Draco he'd be in the kitchen, awaiting the breakfast that the blonde certainly appeared to have forgotten.

"Oh my gods," Hermione mumbled into Draco's shoulder, knowing that utter embarrassment currently crimsoned her skin.

But the rapid jerking of his chest against hers was confusing, and she leaned up. His eyes were closed, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. And he was trying desperately not to laugh aloud. The comical look on his face somehow made her crimson further - embarrassment or anger the reason, she wasn't sure.

She smacked his chest somewhat roughly before bellowing, "Malfoy! That was not funny!"

Her shriek broke his resolve, a gasping guffaw tumbling from his lips. "That was unconditionally hilarious, Granger. Your face," he wheezed, gripping her hip as she tried to unmount him.

"He saw me! Naked!"

"Oh, come off it, Granger," he laughed. "No one has walked in on you before?"

"No!"

"In the shower?"

"That's different!"

"Is it?"

But her answer was drowned out by a moan as he pulled up his knees and thrust into her roughly. Deliciously. Her embarrassment slipping to the back of her mind as he immersed himself into her slit repeatedly. Quickly. Fiercely. Hammering lewd moans from her lips as his hands clutched her hips urgently, her nails sinking into his forearms for stability.

She couldn't think about her embarrassment, though she knew she should. But Merlin did his cock feel like bathing in warm sunshine on an oceanic beach. Rippling crashing waves of pleasure through her body as her legs shook. As she welcomed his somewhat punishing pace.

"Draco, gods, yes!" She cried and watched the feral grin grow over his features, his brows knitting as he bit his lip roughly. 

And he picked up pace, plunging into her quicker as the sounds of her wetness and the pure, musky scent of her arousal permeated the air.

It was sudden, like a bomb imploding. Hermione's legs grew taut, her body shivered, and she squandered all control as she plunged over the precipice, her orgasm pulsing throughout her entire body. Delight clearing her mind for visions of pure ecstasy to whirl wildly behind the eyelids that she shut tightly. 

He fucked her unrelentingly until her body went limp, falling against his chest with panted breaths. His hands slid around her sides, clutching tightly, and a moment later, her back met the softness of his mattress, their centers still joined as his lips met hers. Chaste kisses that matched a deliberate thrust of hips. A firm tongue dancing his craving around hers as his pelvis rolled to kiss her skin.

Gods, did he know how to move. Slowly yet so powerfully. Sheathing himself over and over, languidly, but causing fire to ripple through her anew. A dance of hips, a waltz of lips nearly welling tears of passion along her lower lid.

Her legs trembled as she rose them, taut toes curling around one another as her nails clawed at his back. The hand of his color shrouded arm fell to her thigh, fingers curling around it tightly as lips left hers, head falling into the crook of her neck. Hips never stopping their maddeningly slow, deep thrusts.

With a gasped moan, Hermione kissed the muscular shoulder before her lips. "Draco… more, please."

"Anything for you," he growled, and the force of his pelvis slamming against hers made her gasp aloud.

His pace grew punishing again, and she welcomed it. Pleaded for it. Begged him to fill her. To fuck her. To make her world shatter around his thick arousal. The rock of his pelvis against her clit was like a jolt of fresh electricity across her skin, a bud of deep desire quickly bubbling low in her abdomen anew.

"So beautiful, Hermione," he grunted. "So bloody beautiful."

His movements grew frantic as her given name tumbled from his lips between unintelligible swears. As if he were praising her. Fingers on her thigh were nearly crossing over the precipice of pleasure to pain. His throaty groans ghosting across her neck as he pumped in and out purposefully. Intentionally. Deliciously.

And the force of her second sudden orgasm thrust her hips off the bed, her legs quivering as her body convulsed. Her cries were as sharp as the nails that sank into his back. And with three rapid thrusts, his movements came to a sudden halt, his moan filling her ears as her fluttering walls milked him for everything he was worth.

Chuckling breathlessly, Draco shifted and pressed sweet kisses to her throat, working his way up her jaw until his lips met hers. The hand on her thigh slipped to cup her cheek, passion and emotion tingling across their slow caresses as their breathing evened, sweat on their bodies going cold.

Draco's softening length slipped from her filled crevice with a quick snap of his hips, drawing a giggle from her lips. He huffed a laugh, a crooked grin forming his lips as he leaned over the bed. Palming his wand, the subtle wafting of magic tickled across her skin, washing away their mixed arousal.

And with one final kiss that made her sweet tooth itch, Draco shoved off the bed, leaving her lonely and whimpering at the cold. Hermione tucked the sheet beneath her arms, sitting shakily to watch him saunter naked across the room. Eyes glued to his masculine form as he pulled out a pair of lounge pants and slipped them on before withdrawing a familiar green shirt.

"Take a shower if you'd like. Loo is over there," he offered, turning with a wholly smug grin as he raised the shirt to his head.

"Where are you going?"

His head popped through the hole of his worn Slytherin Quidditch jersey, which now appeared a bit tight in the biceps, an eyebrow raised. "I evidently promised Theo breakfast. And I assume you're hungry?"

"Ye… yeah," she stammered, a bit confused. "Yes, I'm hungry."

"Then, come downstairs when you're ready."

Strolling back to the bed, he leaned over and curled his fingers underneath her chin. Lofting it, his lips pillowed on hers once more, making her eyelids flutter closed. And as if their last romp hadn't just happened, her fingers tightened on the sheets, a small knot of desire building at their passionate twirl of lips.

"I left a toothbrush on the sink for you. Your clothes are there, too," Draco chuckled light-heartedly, drawing back and kissing the tip of her nose before he disappeared through the bedroom door.

Leaving her absolutely breathless and wide-eyed with confusion as the door clicked shut.

What in Merlin's saggy balls was happening? She'd gone home with Draco Malfoy last night, that was a fact. Then proceeded to have one of the best shags of her life, and after, he let her stay the night - practically held her in place when she tried to leave. Didn't kick her out when he woke up beside her. Didn't sneer. Didn't cuss. Just fucked her again. Somewhat fervidly.

And he was now walking downstairs to cook her breakfast?

Well, really, Theo, but he'd invited her to stay. Her. Surely the man that brought her into this lavish bedroom, offering her a toothbrush after turning her legs to jelly was someone disguised with Polyjuice. There was no way in this life or the next that Draco Malfoy would be amenable to having a mudblood in his bed.

Hermione perched dumbfounded for a moment in the middle of a bed clad with sheets that likely cost twice her weekly salary. Mind humming with confusion as she peered about the room, pondering. Contemplating.

There was no way she'd be showering or staying for breakfast. She needed to get home. To bathe in her own tub and rinse away whatever insanity brought her here. That kept her here. That implored him to touch her this morning. To sleep off whatever dream that this was in a bed covered with scratchy floral sheets that she'd taken from her parents' house long ago.

Sighing and running a hand down her face, she dropped the sheet, slowly standing, Hermione couldn't help the tick of her lips at the shake of her knees - even if she slightly hated it. Steadying herself, she paced into the bathroom, and the massive bathtub along the far wall begged her to sink into it. It was utterly lavish, calling her name in wet whispers.

But she ignored it, pacing to the sink where her clothes sat, her wand and a new toothbrush resting atop them.

Groaning a bit, she glanced at the mirror before her, and it reflected the precise image she'd expected. Her hair was rather wild, and she could feel the knots building at the base of her skull, far beyond the help of magic. Her lips were chapped, indentations of teeth and nails peppering her chest with tiny crescent-shaped displays of passion.

And Hermione sighed, splashing water on her face before donning her outfit of the night prior and hiding the indentations with a glamour. Noticing her shoes were nowhere in the elegantly decorated loo, she stepped back into the bedroom. A quick search turned up nothing other than the hazy memory of Draco telling her to remove her heels and suck his cock, sending a frisson down her spine.

A frisson that she tried to push down deep as she pocketed her wand, striding back into the long hallway that he'd kissed her in. Lustful memories of the night before threatening to wet her knickers as she struggled against it. Heat growing up her neck that she tried to push away as she paced toward the steps down.

A mixture of deep voices echoed up the stairwell as she reached the summit, a blush overpowering her will and covering her face. She lingered at the top for a moment, striving to pull forward her courage and tamp down the sliver of embarrassment burning her cheeks at the thought of seeing Theo Nott. But a loud slam below startled her, a groan carrying Nott's voice up the steps.

"So, what are you going to do?"

Another slam of a cabinet, softer this time, sounded before Draco sighed. "Nothing."

Hermione nodded in agreement, ignoring the inkling of disappointment wiggling in her throat. He was right - there was nothing for them to do. It was one night. And one morning. That was it. They weren't friends nor dating. Had scarcely talked before last night. There was nothing for them to do...

"You've bedded her twice now, in as many days."

"And?"

"And," Theo drawled, "what are you going to do about it?"

"Piss off, Theo," Draco snapped, a loud clank of metal on metal following his snarl. "There is nothing to do except watch her leave."

"Mate! You can't just let her walk out of here! You've dreamt of this moment since Merlin knows when!"

Dreamt of this? Draco Malfoy had imagined, and shared, thoughts of them together? And evidently more than once. More than enough times that one of his best mates was adamant about not letting her leave just yet.

"I can, and I will. She doesn't want me," Draco responded, and Hermione could nearly taste the palpable disappointment of his tone as it washed over her. "Never has. She was merely drunk, and I took my shot. I should be apologizing to her."

"Drunk last night, sure. What about this morning?"

"Hungover."

A scoff ricocheted off the barren stairwell walls, a profound eye-roll written in each note. "On your prick? She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. Didn't look like she needed an apology."

"Just leave off, Theo. She won't shower, so she'll be down soon."

Silence rang out, the void of noise promptly filled with the scraping of metal on a pan. Scents of ham filled the air, making her stomach rumble. Long-drawn seconds ticked by, and when the floo did not roar, Hermione knew her only exit laid past not one, but two men who'd seen her naked in the last twenty-four hours.

Inhaling deeply, striving to clear bewilderment from her features, she strode down the stairs. But the two sets of eyes that met hers when she reached the first story waved another layer of redness up her neck. Both stood in the open kitchen, Draco cooking at the stove with Theo at his side, staring at her with differing expressions.

"Ah, Granger. So lovely to see you again," Theo pronounced, bouncing his eyebrows with a suggestive grin that made her creeping flush grow over her entire form.

Hermione merely nodded, crossing her arms over her chest with an embarrassed scoff. "Hello, Nott."

"Nott? Surely if I've seen your tits…"

"Theo!" Draco growled, smacking the back of the tall, brown-haired man's head with the broad end of a spatula.

Theo huffed a laugh, hand running to soothe his now sore skull. "Well, I should get a move on."

"Don't leave on my account. I was just going…"

"Nonsense, Granger!" Theo beamed, stepping from the open kitchen, eyes glancing sidelong at Draco as he laughed. "I've got to meet a man about a horse."

"It's Saturday morning..."

Theo strolled over to her then, bowing and pulling her hand free from the cross of her arms, drawing it to his lips. "And one cannot own too many horses, dear. Granger, I do hope you enjoy your day. I wonder..."

"Theo," Draco growled.

"I'm off!" Theo offered rather exuberantly, bowing.

Without a backward glance, he strode to the hearth, picked up a handful of powder from a black box, and disappeared into the Floo. 

Leaving she and Draco alone in the clouded mess of confusion that was his flat.

Hermione's eyes lingered on her salvation home as the hearth went cold. "Well, I should…"

"How much did you hear?" Draco responded, voice low and laced with a bit of hesitation, she thought.

She chanced a glance back at him, and confusion rippled through her gut anew. He looked as hesitant as his voice had sounded, brows lightly knitted as he removed the ham from the pan. Setting down the spatula, he rounded the kitchen island, moving just out of arm's reach from her.

Hermione let her eyes glance down to the floor, fingers tapping on her thighs, fidgeting. "Not much…"

"You truly are an awful liar."

Thoughts whirled in her mind as silence lingered between them. She shifted from foot to foot, thinking over anything she could say, anything she could ask, rather than diving through his floo.

"How did you know I wouldn't shower?"

"I could see all of your thoughts written on your face before I left the room, Granger. Truly an open book."

Hermione scoffed at that, her eyes flitting to his with a determined wrinkle in the bridge of her nose. "You believe you know me so well, do you?"

"I feel as though I do know you quite well," Draco offered, the slightest tick of the corner of his lips driving a touch of anger into her core.

"How could you?" she derided. "You've never spoken a word other than degradation to me before last night."

He flinched, face falling pensive as a frown formed. "That wasn't by choice, I assure you."

"You could have fooled me. Six years of torment certainly made it very obvious you relished what you were doing."

"I'll admit the first few years were true. But… there came a time when all I wanted to do was ask you on a date."

"Then, why didn't you?"

He looked somewhat taken aback, eyes widening as his lips parted in surprise. "How could I have? I -"

"Quite easily…"

"It wasn't, Granger!" He shouted suddenly, and the anger that spanned his features, so reminiscent of days long past, made gooseflesh pickle along her arms. "I made your life hell. You wouldn't have given me half a second of thought!"

"Yes, you did," Hermione retorted matter-of-factly, arms crossing over her chest.

"I know I did. And I couldn't even help it!"

"You could have stopped at any moment!"

"No, I couldn't have!" he blurted brashly, a sneer forming his lips as he spun, feet pushing into a quick pace through the room. "Then how would I have spoken to you? How could I have gotten close to you?"

Hermione sneered. "By simply speaking to me!"

"Oh, right, because that would have worked so well," he asserted rather dramatically, pushing a frustrated hand through his nearly silver locks. "Between my idiotic parents and those bloody buffoons who followed me. The damn Dark Lord. Your moronic friends with their hero complexes."

"They aren't morons, Malfoy!"

But it was more than evident he was no longer listening to her. His hands worked a bit manically in the air as he spoke, eyes wide whenever they'd flick to hers. "Merlin, those bloody friends of yours. Don't get me started on them. Always making you cry. And I just had to watch it!"

"Malfoy -"

"And if it wasn't them, it was me. And I couldn't even apologize. I just had to act as if I hated you."

"Malfoy, sto -."

"Had to sit in classes and act like I wasn't watching you. Running your fingers through your hair when you wrote. Biting your lip when you were concentrating. The bloody adorable wiggle of your fingers when you put your hand in the air because you're bloody brilliant and know everything."

"Act as though I wasn't in absolute awe of your magical abilities while loathing you for beating me. But yearning desperately to speak to you. To debate with you. Salazar's sack, I just wanted to be next to you."

Hermione felt a bit astonished. She knew she should try to stop him, to halt whatever diatribe was tumbling from the back of his subconscious. But she couldn't. Her fingers felt numb, listening to the angry words he spoke. Not angry, but scorned. Scorn that gradually settled her frustration, her expression falling tender as she watched him.

Draco scoffed then, turning to shoot her a half-hearted glare. "And then you dated the Weasel? Of all people?"

"I -"

"But who was I to condemn you? I'm just a bloody failure. A Death Eater who couldn't even get that right! I don't deserve you. Never have. I should have just left you alone last night!"

"Will you go to dinner with me?" 

His movements ceased so suddenly it appeared as if he strode into a brick wall - eyes snapping to hers, holding the same bewilderment she felt rising as her words processed in her mind. "Granger, were you even listening?"

"Yes," she retorted with a quiet scoff, rolling her eyes lightly.

"We can't go to a bloody dinner together, Granger!" 

"Why not? We've already shagged!" she mocked, indignation forcing her forward when she knew she should stop there. "Tell me one sound reason as to why we can't go to dinner together. Just one, and I'll leave and never come back."

His face fluttered between outrage and uncertainty as he strode back to her, floating further into her space than when he left, eyes locked to hers. "No, but..."

"Nothing. But, nothing. You have no reason to deny my invitation."

"I was such a shit to you, Granger. I… I just watched her torture you."

She grimaced, body wincing at the memory. Draco's jaws fell open slightly, face anxious, a hand flinching toward hers as she whispered, "I'm fine…"

"That's -"

She furrowed her brow, inhaling and letting her expression harden into a determined one. "I am allowing you the opportunity to apologize when you pick me up for dinner. At 8:00. At a nice restaurant, preferably Muggle. I like Indian food."

"We can't…"

"Or you can cook for me. I'll come back here. And we can talk."

He ambled a fraction closer, appearance shifting more amazed by the second. "You'll come back?"

"Yes."

Even closer, and she felt her resolve falter slightly. Whatever rush of brashness that got her to this point disappeared, releasing ripples of nerves into her gut. "Just yes?"

"Do you need more than that?" she whispered, head tilting back to keep his gaze, the sheer difference of their physical statures making her gut flip.

"No," he chuckled softly. "No, I suppose not."

"Then, I will be back here at 8:00."

"At 8:00," he nodded, hand running a curl behind her ear and lingering there. 

When had his hand even moved to her face? Merlin, he was tall. And handsome. And bloody hell did she want to shag him right here.

"May I kiss you?"

Her chest bounced, a missed breath audible as she nodded, inclining her lips further towards his. He leaned in, a slight smirk forming his lips before they were on hers. It wasn't lewd. Wasn't obscene. But gods was it sensual. Knee-shaking, eye-fluttering. Sweet, just as his last kiss before leaving her minutes back.

His hand fell to her cheek, tenderly cupping her jaw as their lips swept together. She couldn't focus on anything other than the warmth of his palm - on the affection that appeared to lick across their joined lips, building desire deep into her core.

She had to rip herself away before she sank into him, moving back a bit dazedly as her eyes fluttered open. "I'll see you at 8:00."

With a sharp nod, Hermione spun, feeling as though she was missing something and all of her faculties as she clutched a handful of floo powder, threw it down, and welcomed the warmth that took her home.

What in all the gods' names had just happened?

She asked Draco Malfoy to cook her dinner. Merlin, no. She demanded that he prepare her a meal tonight. He'd refused! She could have taken that response with her and merely walked forward in life. Yet, she pressed - forcing her return to his home tonight.

"Oh, my gods!"

Hermione started, eyes lifting at the shrill tone of excitement, settling on the blonde she had danced between with Ginny - who appeared at her side with an impish grin. "Fucking…"

"You're Hermione Granger! Shit, this has been the best weekend ever!"

"Say, Lisa, why don't I owl you later?" Ginny smirked, guiding the gushing blonde toward the floo. She tried to linger, stepping onto her tiptoes to see over Ginny's shoulder before she disappeared.

"That's why I wear the glamour," Hermione growled, pacing into the kitchen for a glass of water.

Ginny's wholly amused, wide-stretching grin emerged in the kitchen doorway mere seconds later. "So?"

"So, what?"

"I'm assuming you didn't merely pass out in the street last night. So?"

"It was nothing," Hermione murmured, pulling a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the tap. Downing it quickly, she begged the water to stave the headache forming at the base of her skull.

"Bull shite," Ginny scoffed. "Your damned hair is a mess, your lips are swollen and chapped to hell, and you don't even have on my shoes, not to mention your glamour."

Hermione groaned, planting a hand on her face. "The shoes!" 

"So. Where have you left them?"

"Nowhere," Hermione attempted, lifting an eyebrow at the redhead witch as she slid by her, back into the sitting room toward the stairs. "I'll just get them back tonight."

"Tonight?"

Merlin, she needed to sleep more. Or just to clear her hazy mind. She wasn't even thinking before her words. "Bloody fuck…"

"So," Ginny began again, trailing Hermione up the stairs. "You're going back to nowhere tonight, to visit no one, and get my shoes?"

"Ginny, I genuinely need a nap. Can we do this later?"

"You come home as Hermione, so obviously this person knows who you are now," Ginny mused before her face turned sour. "Gods, please tell me it wasn't Ron!"

Hermione blanched, passing into her room. "No! Merlin, no." 

"Harry?" Ginny challenged with a raised eyebrow from the doorway. 

"No! Ew, Gin, you know he's like a brother to me."

"Well, there aren't many people who you'd drop your glamour for! So who is he? She?" 

"Later, Ginny."

"I'll figure this out, witch!" Ginny exclaimed as Hermione forced her out and slammed the door a bit loudly.

No matter what she tried after that, she couldn't pull her thoughts off Draco Malfoy. Her hand nearly slipped between her thighs in her bath as she reminisced of their night and morning after. Nearly chose to leave a few of his indentations as she rubbed healing paste into her skin. Almost wept as she laid in bed, recalling their childhood and the agony he'd caused before falling asleep.

"Get up, witch!" Ginny demanded, flicking the light switch and nearly blinding Hermione as she burst through the door.

"Fucking Circe, Ginny!" Hermione groaned, throwing the blanket over her face.

"Get. Up!"

"I've got hours! I'm not to be there until 8:00!"

"Well, it's 5:00, and I didn't know when your little rendezvous was," Ginny continued, and suddenly the blanket was hurling across the room. "Maybe if you would have shared, I wouldn't be here disturbing you."

"Why are you disturbing me?"

"I went shopping!" Ginny beamed, flicking her wand and floating several articles of clothing into the room.

Hermione sat, stretching a bit before offering the redhead a grimace. "I have several outfits from which to choose, Gin."

"No, you don't. None of your clothing is appropriate. Have you shaved?"

Hermione shook her head in shock, giving her roommate a jeer. "Honestly, Ginny."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help."

She flicked her wand then, and four dresses - all utterly too short - a barely-there shirt paired with what looked like a skin-tight skirt, and some odd one-piece bodysuit pants combo floated into the air. All equally as hideous as the next. Bright yellows and reds, frills, lace, cut-outs. Unquestionably nothing that Hermione would be wearing tonight, which she made sure Ginny knew.

"I bought one more, but I didn't like it when I got home. Didn't scream fuck me enough."

"Then I'm sure it's very appropriate. Where is it?" Hermione sought.

Ginny rolled her eyes, flicking her wand. A deep emerald dress floated through the door, bringing a smile to Hermione's lips.

It was, in fact, very appropriate.

Stunning, actually. A thin off the shoulder sleeve. Form-fitting but not overly so. A modest hemline that looked as though it would sit just above her knee. A delicate fabric that would give her a figure but also let her hold decency.

"That, I will wear."

Ginny rolled her eyes again, floating the dress to the bed. "Fine. Now let's get to work straightening your hair."

"No!" Hermione blurted and winced. "No. I want to wear my curls. I'm just going to pin them up."

Ginny pouted, stomping her foot in a bit of a tantrum. "And I can't even play with your hair? What good is having a roommate if I can't help her get ready for a date?"

The term date undulated anxiety into Hermione's gut as she stood, shooing Ginny from the room with her unwanted clothing. She was going to Draco Malfoy's flat in mere hours, willingly - not slightly drunk - to have dinner with him. To sit around and chat as if they were a thing. To listen to an apology that she long ago gave up on receiving.

What could have ever possessed her to blurt out such an absurd idea? He hated her. She hated him. End of discussion. They were Malfoy and Granger - two of the world's greatest archenemies. Two people destined to loathe one another until their last breaths: a pureblood and a mudblood.

Yet, last night they had become something - even if it were just a notch on each other's proverbial belt. And this morning, he'd adamantly declared that he'd fancied her for years. That whatever perceptions she held of their youthful interactions were wholly different than what appeared burned into his subconscious.

And hadn't they fought in a war to disrupt notions of supremacy?

His words had stolen all of her sensibilities. But mostly, she felt curious. Who was this Draco Malfoy that took her home last night? That knew who she was through her glamour? Who tattooed over his Dark Mark and held her in place, refusing to let her leave after they shagged?

It felt strange for her fingers to tremble in excitement as she readied herself. She found herself putting in more effort on her natural appearance, bizarreness coursing through her as she didn't don her glamour. Learning her natural curls because Draco appeared to admire them, merely pinning them on her head.

It was nearly 8:00 by the time she glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Rushing, she donned her dress, using her wand to zip it as she slipped on a pair of flats. And her heart sprinted as she bustled down the stairs, lingering in the Floo, attempting not to retch at the swirl of emotion.

Hesitation. Tentativeness. Excitement.

She inhaled deeply, exhaling to quiet her spirits before releasing a handful of powder and welcoming the Floo's warmth whirling her away.

Draco stood beside the fireplace as she emerged, a white shirt clinging to his form, sleeves rolled to display the color coating his arms. Casual yet wholly put together. Form-fitting jeans capped with a pair of new trainers. Hair styled as it had been the evening prior, frantic yet perfectly placed. And the smile that formed his features as he studied her figure made him appear absolutely radiant in the low light.

Dozens of flickering candles littered the room, washing a refined luminance along the walls. A trail of petal-encircled tealights led a course to the nook Hermione had seen as she ducked through the Floo this morning. But the windows were now covered with soft lilac drapes, shielding the outside world and making a heavenly little escape. A table sat in the center, several deep emerald candlesticks lighting the expanse, glittering off crystal glassware.

It was simply enchanting. And overindulgent. And Hermione couldn't check the fragmentary surge of anxiety, uncertainty, and thrill at the intimacy of it all.

"Good evening, Granger."

"Malfoy, this is…"

"Overdramatic."

Hermione chuckled. "A touch, yes. But it is lovely."

He stepped to her side then. "You look utterly incredible, Granger."

"I feel overdressed."

"I can help with that," he playfully growled, grin morphing into a smirk as he slid a hand along her longer back, guiding her to the table.

She merely huffed light-heartedly, willing her heart rate to stop building as they walked. Urging her mind to stop turning over Draco's casual nature as he led her. It was fluid, seemed wholly natural as he pulled out her chair, nestling it gently into the crook of her knees as she sat.

"I may have panicked after you left this morning and Floo'd Theo back."

"Well, this certainly doesn't look like a horse."

"No, though he did help procure dinner. Among other things," Draco laughed. "His boyfriend was rather put out spending the day decorating."

"I trust we won't be seeing him again tonight?" she chuckled, and the smirk he offered tinted a blush over her cheeks.

With a smooth flick of his hand, dishes floated from the kitchen, settling atop the table. Wafting a delicious aroma that made Hermione's mouth water as food began to serve itself. "Indian."

"You did request it," he uttered, opening a bottle of wine and pouring her a glass. He was silent, the sounds of the liquid against his crystal goblet making her ears ring a touch. "So, Granger, are you still working at the Ministry?"

"I… I am," Hermione affirmed, astonished at the casual tone between them so quickly. "Though, I've had thoughts of reaching out to Minerva about a teaching opportunity."

He brought a fork full of food to his mouth, and she followed suit. "I can see you being very successful at Hogwarts. Which discipline?"

"Charms," Hermione replied with faltered finality. "Or possibly Transfiguration. Or Arithmancy."

He laughed, a sensual sound, as a grin formed his characteristics. "So… anything?"

"I'd like to reconfigure the curriculum. At least attempt to teach current and future youths about the dangers of purity and misinformation of Muggles."

"Commendable."

"I should think. And you? Do you work? Or -"

He chuckled lightly. "I do. And it varies day to day."

"So, you don't have a set job?"

"I do. Some days I am merely an owl response device, though most days I am a potioneer. I head a team in the Research Division at St. Mungos."

"What?" Hermione gasped lightly, fork halting its movement to her mouth. "Truly? How could I have missed such an announcement? Surely it would have been in the papers."

"It is considerably simple to keep information from the papers when enough coin gets placed in the proper hands."

"You bought your role then."

He lifted an eyebrow at that, lips falling into a slight frown as she berated herself for her brashness. "No, I earned it. I merely silenced its announcement. Mungos was happy to agree. And it's not as though it is a large empire. It is myself, Blaise, and two other older gents."

"I apologize," she murmured, striving to push as much sincerity into her tone as she could, and he nodded slightly. "What are you working on, if you can share?"

"Many things. Right now, we are researching a long term potion solution to alleviate residual pain for those who suffered the Cruciatus. So that they no longer have to live as captives to a potion that becomes addictive."

Hermione winced, remembering the ever-present, more than dull ache that lingered in the months following her torture. "That will help a lot of people, Malfoy."

He nodded, an effortless smile threatening to play across his lips. "That is the plan, yes."

"I often receive nerve blocking shots from my doctor to help with my pain... It doesn't soothe it completely but has been very helpful. Have you explored that as a base for your research?"

"I have met with numerous Muggle doctors. Most have pointed me in the direction of variants of the medicine called Epidural. I'm told it is used..."

Hermione snickered as his face scrunched lightly. "During childbirth. It's only natural, Malfoy."

"Sure, it is. That doesn't mean I have to think about it."

Hermione merely chuckled anew, rocking her head. "How are you testing?"

"We have a few volunteers willing to work with us. And outside of that, myself and Blaise test. I can say that having the tremble in my fingers relieved was… incredible. But the loss of my arm function wasn't conducive to work."

And although he laughed, it brought a bit of sadness to her mind. He'd been tortured, too. Why it hadn't crossed her mind that he'd likely been subjected to the blunt end of a wand more times than herself, she wasn't sure. But she could see it now - the faint shaking of his hand as he brought a fork to his lips.

Lips that now looked completely different.

Draco Malfoy was trying to help people. Draco Malfoy consulted with multiple Muggle doctors for research that would greatly benefit wizards and witches well beyond Britain - and he was doing it all without even a shred of publicity. He was sitting across from her, sharing his life, asking about hers, and not once taunting her.

Draco Malfoy was undoubtedly a changed man.

"If you need test subjects, I can certainly sign a waiver," she smiled.

He merely nodded, a smooth grin shifting his features to a delicate countenance she scarcely attributed to a Malfoy. Conversation flowed surprisingly smoothly after that. It felt natural sitting in his presence, eating takeaway, sipping wine, and chatting over their day. Learning about the other's life after the war and changing perceptions of events during it.

Sharing stories of how his father's peacocks chased him around the Manor grounds in his youth. Of how he wasn't the first boy she'd punched, and likely wouldn't be the last. 

One bottle of wine disappeared during their meal, another sinking to two final glasses during a delicious dessert, after which he stood. He offered Hermione his palm, the smooth skin drawing forward visions of the night prior. Of bass thumping against her heart as colors danced around his heated gaze.

And Merlin did the memory of his firm grasp ripple desire to her core. She tried to calm herself before glancing up at him. She hadn't come here for anything other than dinner. To talk and allow him an opportunity to apologize. But the small upturn of his lips as he hooked his fingers lightly, enticing her up as she grabbed her wine, drove a deep redness up her neck.

"I want to show you something."

He tugged her toward a set of thick wooden doors on the opposite side of the room. And if she thought the Hogwarts library was a piece of beauty, what fell exposed as he pushed inward the large doors could only be described as heavenly.

The overwhelming scent of parchment, new and old, wafted against Hermione's senses, sending a frisson of excitement down her spine. Elegant candle-lit chandeliers hung every few feet from a meticulously sculpted ceiling - the room evidently extended with multiple charms. Stacks lined the walls, two stories littered with more texts than one could possibly read in a single lifetime.

And on the far wall sat a towering window, moonlight painting the gardens outside it in a soft, pale hue.

It was truly marvelous.

"Come on."

She stammered, her slackened jaw shutting slowly. "I don't want to bring in my wine. I'll ruin something."

"Everything's charmed to repel moisture," he laughed, stepping in further. Hermione followed hesitantly behind him, swiveling her head to take in everything. "It is a replica of the library in the Manor, though I left most of the Dark Arts books there."

"It's beautiful. Even the window?"

"That is a bit more intricate. Come," Draco delivered, a smirk forming his features as he pushed toward the window. "It took a fair bit of clever spellwork, but it is the same window."

She slowly moved to his side, eyes glued to the soft blue gardens beyond the panes. "That same window? You moved it here?"

"No, Granger, the view is a live look at the Manor."

"Truly?" Hermione gasped. "That's… Malfoy, this is amazing."

It was so stunning, utterly surreal. Hermione supposed she didn't precisely know what the outside of the Manor looked like, but it certainly couldn't possess a garden so divine. Flowers and trees in full bloom, the moon's glow making them seem etheric. Though, when a white peacock strutted by, she had to stifle a laugh.

They stood quiet for a while, staring out the window, supping their wine. Hermione could see in her peripheral as the smile of her compliment slowly faded from Draco's lips, his face falling hard in their quietness. The only noise pervading the space was the crackling fireplace on the far wall and the sounds of leisurely sips of wine.

"I hated that place," he started minutes later, scarcely above a whisper. "I couldn't sleep, couldn't step around a corner without being Crucio'd. Couldn't walk into the ballroom without hearing your screams…"

"But I loved this window. It was an escape. Everything out there was truly beautiful. As if darkness didn't reign."

He shifted to face her entirely then, expression sorrowful as she turned to match his gaze. The anguish, the agony, written in his eyes made the breath catch in her throat.

"Granger… I am deeply sorry for all of the pain I've caused you. For every word that made your cry. For ever thinking that you were… dirty."

She ached to speak. To tell Draco that she accepted his apologies. That he'd changed more than any individual possibly could, and she could see it. Could see him. That he had convinced her that he wasn't the same scared, arrogant little boy he'd been in school. But the only words that could slip past the tightness in her throat were, "I forgive you."

He looked relieved, reaching to tuck another escaped curl behind her ear. "I've done very little to earn your forgiveness, but I won't stop making amends merely because I have it."

She tried to swallow past the thick lump in her throat, eyes leaving him to scan the library. "You can let me browse the stacks as a start."

"My stacks are your stacks."

She could only nod, trying not to inhale too deeply as she stepped away. But Draco didn't wait long before trailing her to the shelves. Her fingers skimmed the spine of age old books, his footsteps echoing behind hers and making her anxious, yet excited. She lingered for a moment at a shelf full of Arithmancy texts.

And he was behind her then, and all around her. Citrus and sandalwood blended with the tantalizing scent of parchment and invaded her senses, her eyes fluttering shut as she inhaled a jagged breath. She could taste his aura kissing hers, the warmth of his nearness working along her exposed skin like flames along dry grass.

"I wanted to show you this tonight, Granger, because I'm rather selfish."

She didn't turn from the stack, hand trembling lightly across the leather bindings before her as the other clutched her wine glass desperately. "Selfish? How… how so?"

"You see, I've long had a fantasy to press you up against a stack. To feel your spine tingle from the scent of parchment."

She gasped a bit, eyes snapping wide and over her shoulder. No one. No one knew what the scent of parchment truly did to her. The shiver of her spine that drove all the way into her core. The contentedness she felt from a new cover between her fingers. But the thoroughly lecherous smirk across his lips told her that she was wrong - he knew.

"Oh? You thought no one noticed how you held texts to your nose?"

"Y... yes."

"How your body shuddered at the scent of a new book? How your eyelids fluttered closed at the smell?"

Her mouth felt dry, her lips unable to close as she exhaled, shuddering. She merely rocked her head, shifting it back toward the stacks to stop herself from spinning and clinging to him. To stop herself from running without looking back.

"I did, Granger. I saw you."

Suddenly, both of their wine glasses were gone, his hands finding her hips and making her knees weak. His feather-light caresses along her thin dress were like a wildfire, burning every inch of skin they passed.

"Let me tell you what I saw."

His kisses on her bare shoulders were maddening as he bounced his lips between each one. Sensual strokes that set her spirits aflame. Working a hand up her side to cup her throat, he pulsed pressure that flooded her slit instantly. He leaned in, grazing his nose upon her sensitive flesh until his mouth lingered just behind her ear.

"I saw every great thing a man could want in a witch." 

The ghost of his whispered words carried across Hermione's earlobe, and gods, did it feel like divinity dancing across her soul. The weight of his words coursed through her, and her entire figure shivered, leaning back into him. But it wasn't enough. She ached to touch him. For him to explore her. Everywhere.

"Eyes so deep a man could get lost in them."

The unmistakable sound of her zipper rang throughout the room, his fingers gliding leisurely along her spine. Feather-light strokes that dusted gooseflesh along her shoulder to her sleeve. He lowered one thin sleeve down her arm and then the other. And when her dress pooled on the floor, her emerald knickers appearing to shine in the dim light, he groaned.

"Tanned skin, as smooth as silk. Body fit for a goddess."

His hands scoured her body eagerly, gripping and rubbing anything he could. Softly yet utterly powerful, causing a delicate moan to tumble from her lips. And when he trailed hot kisses down her spine, teeth sinking into her arse, her body quaked, fingers clenching around the lip of a wooden stack before her.

He encouraged her from her flats slowly, fingers working their way to seize her arse tightly. And his stature seemed to tower over her as he righted, lips finding her neck anew. She felt engulfed - immersed in everything that was Draco Malfoy as he moved impossibly further into her, pressing his arousal into the middle of her back.

"And a mind so brilliant it shines above all else."

She couldn't stop the shudder or the gasp from saturating the room at his words. At the unmitigated lust in his voice. She hadn't come here for this tonight. But Merlin, she couldn't deny how her body pleaded anew for his fingers as they shifted up her.

Hermione rolled her neck with desperation against the strong digits that grasped it. He was determined, kneading as he worked his way to her hair. Leaving her utterly breathless, fingers vibrating against the wooden stack as he let free the clip from her hair.

He buried his face into her curls as they sprang to life, his digits curling dangerously around her neck once more. He moved with grace, the force of his body against hers as he growled purely tantalizing. And a pulsing pressure closed about her esophagus causing her vision to go hazy with desire.

"This morning was for you," he purred, thrusting his body purposefully against hers, shoving his manhood against her back. "Tonight is for me."

He spun her then, and gods the feel of his lips crushing to hers was like pure magic. Her body vibrated as their tongues danced, her fingers shifting to fumble with his shirt. And the sheer force of his clutch seizing her wrists and wrapping them above her head made her clit throb.

Fierceness lingered on his features and in his shoulders, a fire consuming the black depths of his pupils that burned hotter than the fire in the hearth. And he kissed her like he craved it. Like everything he went through during his life was worth it, if it led him here. Lead him to her.

Lead him to the salvation that was her waters and permitted him to drink.

He drew back suddenly, the loss of contact making Hermione whimper. But the lust covering his features slipped a bead of desire through her folds.

"To the couch, Granger. Slowly. I want to watch you."

He shifted, lofting a hand toward the sofa before the fire on the opposite side of the room. Quivering, Hermione sauntered past him and could sense him trailing her. And she wasn't sure if it was the heat of the roaring hearth or his gaze searing her skin as she paused before the couch. But he was already standing before the fire as she glanced over her shoulder, eyes glued to her.

"Take them off."

She only wore one last thing - her knickers. His sight was glue to her arse, tongue wetting his lips as she shifted her knickers down, dropping them when they were loose.

"Do you know what I want you to do for me, Granger?" She merely shook her head, though she had a lustful inkling as to what he craved. "I want to see your face as you touch yourself. I want to watch you come undone on your own fingers, Granger. Have your control before you give it all to me. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes…"

Her clit wept for mercy - pleaded to be pet and caressed. But she didn't want her fingers, she wanted his. The ones currently wrapped around the front of his trousers as she turned slowly, dropping deliberately onto the sofa. His eyes scanned her figure as she sank back, parting her legs just wide enough for her hand to slide between them.

Her pussy was soaked already, the slickness allowing her fingers to glide effortlessly over her small curls to skim her lower lips. Her cunt throbbed as she pushed pressure, lightly at first, until she couldn't stand teasing herself any longer.

"Wider."

She shuddered, the thick reverberations of his voice washing over her like a wave of arousal. Her legs shook as she stretched them, one foot perching on the couch as the other leg fell over the armrest. She purred, moaning lightly as her fingers swept down her center - relishing the roll of his lips and the thick desire in the air. 

Hermione shifted her fingers into her folds, and the heated look on his face empowered her, begged her to spread her legs wider. Making her fingers feel like they never had before. He watched her with deep intention, unbuttoning his shirt as she clamped her clit between two knuckles, slowly pulsing. 

Her cunt hummed, another frisson of pleasure soaking her hole as his chest fell exposed, two fingers teasing her opening as she bit her lip. Tantalizing herself with light moans as her hips implored her own fingers to circle harder. Quicker.

Her arousal's lewd noises pulsated through the air as her mouth fell open with ragged breaths, and he looked mesmerized. Unable to shift his eyes away as she slid two fingers deep inside herself. Sighta glued to her slit as she fucked herself into soundless moans.

Her eyes closed, face scrunching into the epitome of pleasure as her head fell backward. Her cunt hummed in ecstasy, her thumb praising it with concise, heavy flicks.

And the firm grip that pressed her thighs further apart startled her, eyes snapping open to see him on his knees before her. Mouth wide as he leaned in, licking every centimeter of skin he could reach as she fingered herself.

His eyes locked her eyes, and craving etched every line of his face as his hand stilled hers. Never dropping her gaze, he hooked his fingers about the two in her slit, feather-light caresses skimming against her as he withdrew them, pulling them to his lips. 

She couldn't tell what pleased her the most. Draco's tongue laving over her fingers. The tight grip on her thigh. The heat of his breath on her skin.

But it was all incomparable to his tongue thrusting through her folds; to the sensation of his fingers replacing hers, forcing in and out. Hooking inside her with quick vibrations as his tongue smoothed satisfying firmness against her womanhood. Celebrating her.

Hermione couldn't stop her hips from rotating against his lips. Or the fingers that gripped his hair desperately. Or his given name buzzing through her moans as her increasingly intense cries saturated the space, her pleasure doubling over on itself.

An explosion of indescribable bliss radiated through her, making her hips thrust against his face. Her whole body shook, her back arching as she fucked herself on his digits and against his tongue. Deep waves of pleasure shattering behind her navel as she screamed out his name.

She felt high, as if she were floating on a cloud as he flipped her. Her chest pressed against the back of the couch, his arm hoisting her arse in the air. Leaving her presented like a prize waiting to be taken.

He wasted no time before swiping his tip along her slit and burying himself deep inside her. He wasn't gentle, the desperate clutch on her hips nearly painful as he began to thrust. Deeply. Frantically.

Yet somehow still so passionate. 

She couldn't think beyond the feel of him. Beyond the fingers that fisted her curls and tugged her head back. Beyond the words that he whispered in her ear as his hips snapped into her. Beyond the fingers that slipped around her body to her clit.

It was fast. And hard. And undoubtedly the most euphoric orgasm Hermione had ever had. Her fingers felt taut as she gripped the sofa's back, worshiping him as he fucked her. Until his movements grew furious and he stilled suddenly, one arm wrapping around her middle, holding her arse up and against him.

Her bones felt like liquid as he withdrew, her form sliding along the sofa's surface until she collapsed against the cushions with a satisfied grin. Not until she felt lifted did she crack her eyes.

He hugged her tightly against his chest, eyes determined as he carried her out the library doors.

"Draco, where -"

"I am not done with you yet, witch."

**Author's Note:**

> Still need some work on the tenses in this piece. But I hope you enjoyed it. Comments / concrit is greatly appreciated!
> 
> IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE A THIRD INSTALLMENT OF THIS SERIES: I'd appreciate if you took two seconds to fill out [this Google Form survey](https://forms.gle/s6q3SKvxALUruDUa9). It is only two questions and like a choose your own Dramione adventure!


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